


A Perfectly Cooked Steak

by choir_of_one



Series: JonElias Week 2020 [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: And Lets Him Have a Nice Night, Elias Reflects on his Archivist, M/M, Manipulation by Way of Dinner, season one, with ulterior motives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26106967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choir_of_one/pseuds/choir_of_one
Summary: Jon is treated to a lovely meal, but fails to realize he's on the menu.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: JonElias Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896295
Comments: 12
Kudos: 70
Collections: Jonelias Week 2020





	A Perfectly Cooked Steak

**Author's Note:**

> For Jon/Elias Week Day Two: Manipulation/Caretaking.

Elias watched as his Archivist murmured into his tape recorder, completely unaware of the figure standing in his doorway. Even now, completely consumed by the looming specter of Jane Prentiss and the realization that his world isn’t quite as black and white as he had hoped, he still doesn’t feel the Eye of the Watcher. Jon rubs at his own tired eyes, suppressing a yawn and Elias finds himself having to suppress an annoying affection for the man in front of him. He’s afraid to say that Jon may no longer just be a means to an end.

But he thought he deserved a bit of enjoyment from the ride. Planning the downfall of humanity and the supremacy of his God isn’t all dull paperwork and scheming. Sometimes, you had to indulge in life’s simple pleasures. Jon was one of those pleasures.

The Web’s mark was growing fainter but it still clung to his Archivist, twitching his limbs into the familiar vices of his youth. He’d seen him playing with that lighter, flipping it open and shut. An irritating setback, but it could be useful in its own way. The Web was inscrutable at the best of times, and Elias wasn’t willing to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not yet, at least.

He noticed the eyes of another as well. _Ah, Mr. Blackwood._ He’d been taking good care of his Archivist, though his attempts had been mostly brushed off. Poor Martin had thought he’d made a breakthrough with Jon, what with his offer to stay in the Archives. But Jon was caught in a deeper web than his assistants, perhaps save for Sasha’s dalliance with the Spiral. Hopefully that would lead to another delicious mark on the thus far unsullied skin of Mr. Sims. Martin brought him closer to the Corruption, but he would soon outlive his usefulness, perhaps in the inevitable raid of Ms. Prentiss. Martin was a liar and prone to fits of jealousy. Elias did not want to deal with the complications that might bring.

And so he ignored the eyes carefully watching from the hallway. He cleared his throat and Jon jumped in his seat, turning red at the sight of his employer. Elias gave him an amused smile.

“As much as I hate to interrupt your musings, it seems you’ve forgotten the time. And the date.” Jon gazed back in confused silence before his eyes flickered to the calendar on his laptop screen. Elias drank in the inevitable panic as he noticed his coat and scarf.

“Sh- Christ, I completely lost track of time. I’m so sorry, I forgot we’d planned-”

“Not to worry,” Elias assured. “I’ve called ahead to let them know we would be a bit delayed. They were happy to accommodate.”

“Ah, a-alright,” The tape recorder’s static still droned on. “I’ll just grab my coat.”

“Here you are.” Elias held it out, unmoving. Jon rose from his desk, the creaking of his bones giving away just how long he’d been sitting there, absorbed in his work. Elias was proud of his dedication, though it tended to border on the extreme. He walked over, ready to grab it, but Elias merely opened it up, holding out the arms of the coat. Jon tentatively went along, putting his arms through it. His face flushed as he gave into this small crumb of affection and Elias pat his shoulder, steering him out into the hallway with a guiding hand.

The eyes of Mr. Blackwood burned into his back. Elias smirked. And Jon allowed himself to be led out of the Archives, then the Institute, and into the cold night air.

Elias had decided to take a more hands on approach with his new Archivist. He’d spent many years watching him in research; how he handled pressure, how he spoke with his colleagues. How he blushed under the smallest of praises and how he craved affection like a stray animal, though he would never stoop to asking for it. So Lonely. Such a nice meal for Peter, if Elias had been inclined to generosity.

But Jon was _his_ to devour. The others could leave their mark, touch him as they will, but the Archivist was a meal that Elias planned to savor in the coming years. He led him to his car, driver waiting patiently as planned. He opened the car door to a murmured “thank you” and made his way to the other side.

While his Archivist had all of the attributes necessary for his calling- the curiosity, the drive, the _fear_ \- he didn’t have the same intuition when it came to caring for himself. He bristled under the tender affections of Martin; no, that path wasn’t for him. He would need a firmer hand, an authority figure. Jon craved discipline as much as praise. And Elias was willing to be this, for him.

He was getting sentimental in his old age.

“I’ve picked quite a nice place for tonight’s dinner. I think you’ll find it’s just what you need after a long day at the office, yes?” A smile for Jon, who gifts him with a shy smile in return.

“I’m s-sure it’s lovely. Thank you, again, for this. Going through all of that trouble.”

“Oh it’s no trouble, Archivist. Not when it comes to you.” Jon’s face reddened further as he looked down to his lap. He knew Jon wondered at the title, why he had it and why Elias seemed so fond of using it. But he enjoyed it all the same, Elias could tell. _How lovely you are when I pull your strings._

The hum of the car as it drove into the night was not unlike the drone of Jon’s tape recorders. They were a curious thing; every time Elias happened upon one, he could feel the presence of the Archivist, his growing power. Gertrude had never achieved such a thing; Elias would have to keep an eye on it. But for now, he took it as a blessing from the Eye, and perhaps the Web. What a wonder his Jon was. What an excellent _choice_. Maybe not even a choice at all.

They arrived promptly and Elias stepped out into the crisp air, while his driver opened the door for Jon and said man stumbled through his thank yous. Jon would have to get used to being cared for, being cherished. Elias would give him the world, if he asked.

Elias will give him the world anyway.

Another hand to his back, which Jon submits to easily. A word with the maître de, who greets them personally upon their arrival and leads them to a private corner of the room. He’d of course instructed everyone from his driver to the staff that they were in the company of a very special guest and he was to be treated as such. They’d most likely expected much more of a presence, like the donors he wined and dined. Not a scrawny little thing with messy hair and a nervous gait. He knew Jon felt out of place, but that was sort of the point, wasn’t it?

Chairs pulled out. Wine poured. Jon startled at the ease of the gestures, the alacrity at which they were served. Elias decided to grant him a reprieve.

“I took the liberty of ordering ahead. I find the intrusion of staff to be non-conducive to good conversation, don’t you agree?” Jon nodded, though he didn’t agree. He put up no fight, no comment on why he didn’t get to choose his own meal. _Very good. You’re learning, Jon._

“I suppose you would like an update on the Prentiss situation,” Jon got down to brass tacks- he was clearly unused to interaction outside of the office. Elias liked the authority with which he spoke, the confidence when it came to his work. “Thank you, again, for the extra CO2. I believe it’s integral, should she start getting bolder in her attacks.” Elias nodded, but said nothing. He’d let him go on; his rambling was charming, in its own way.

Jon took a sip of the wine, glancing nervously at the amount of silverware in front of him. Elias decided he would clearly pick up each utensil at the start of a course- he wouldn’t let Jon flounder for too long. He was not averse to some instruction.

“A-and I’m sorry I didn’t inform you about Martin’s, er, new living arrangements right away,” Elias had wondered when he would bring that up. It had clearly been bothering his Archivist for some time. “It was all very sudden, and-”

“Jon,” he interrupted patiently. “I didn’t call you here to talk about Mr. Blackwood or his, well, unorthodox living situation. Nor Prentiss. I thought it would be a nice change of pace to just… chat, yes? Get to know one another. I meant to do this months ago, but the situation with Gertrude was a bit of a mess, as you’re well aware.”

Another sip of wine. The first course arrives. Jon’s face is already flushed, and not from embarrassment. Elias notes that his Archivist does not hold his liquor well. This pleased him.

“Quite aware, yes,” the man snarked. _There’s that bit of fire._ He quickly backtracked, however, as he noticed his words. “B-but thank you, that’s very kind. To take the time- with me, I mean. You must be very busy.” _I am._

“Not too busy to congratulate my Archivist on his recent successes,” Jon blanches at this. He is lovely in his ignorance, completely unaware of the moving pieces which dictate this universe. Elias will miss this naked, panicked fear once it is gone. But the Knowing will be all the more sweeter for it. “You’ve gone through quite a lot of statements in the past few weeks. Are you starting to see any sort of narrative, or perhaps a pattern?” He’ll allow this bit of shop talk, just to put his Archivist at ease. It works.

Jon isn’t willing to admit to much. He refuses to take off the mask of the skeptic. It’s _adorable_ the lengths to which he will go to discredit the statement givers.

Another course. Jon’s glass is refilled. It’s nice to see him eating, getting some sustenance beyond tea. Soon he’ll face another sort of hunger, one that doesn’t deal in calories.

As the wine flows freely, so do Jon’s previous inhibitions. He talks of college, of his years as a researcher- even a bit about a band. Elias knows all of this, of course, but hearing it come from the mouth of the Archivist makes it a bit more solid, more _real_. Jon’s own statement, if you will. But he won’t be getting Mr. Spider tonight. That will have to wait.

Dessert, a digestif. Jon has a sweet tooth. And a nice smile. Elias finds himself watching his lips as they form a derisive smirk or a stuttered thanks. He is not immune to the effects of wine, even after all this time.

The check. Jon leans into his body as he stumbles into the night, shivering. Elias gives him his scarf, though the car is steps away. Jon accepts, and Elias watches as he burrows into the soft fabric and inhales. Elias wonders what his neck will smell like, the sillage of his scent against Jon’s skin.

Jon dozes during the ride home, head against his shoulder. The closeness is intoxicating. And when the car arrives back at the Magnus Institute, the man doesn’t even realize that he’s been led back to work. This was a change in plan for Elias, who’d originally meant to bring him home. Perhaps even walk him to his doorstep, settle him in bed. Jon would likely not remember.

But then he recalls the jealous gaze of one Mr. Blackwood. And he couldn’t resist depositing Jon gently into his desk chair to the sound of a tape recorder’s click. Tonight’s entertainment was a comedy in three acts, and Martin’s scornful gaze would take them to the curtain call. He pencils in another dinner in a week’s time. Let it never be said he doesn’t take care of his employees.

And Jon requires a _personal_ touch.

**Author's Note:**

> Elias is a Bastard and I Love Him So Much. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
